One of the more arresting sights of Liverpool is the dark vista of Liverpool Bay stretching from the tip of New Brighton in a broad swathe to Formby Point on the other side of the river; several miles to the North. In the long dark nights of winter, especially on nights of heavy cloud or no moon, one is greeted by a panorama of Lights. White lights blinking in pre-set sequences interspersed with red and green navigation buoy lights. Combine this with the lights from a multitude of wind turbines planted in the shallows to the side of the shipping lanes. And there are numerous gas production platorms dotted around Liverpool Bay too. All in all it makes for quite a light show.
 To the North of the Liverpool docks is a marina. It's separated from the sea by a substantial sea wall along which one can walk for several miles. It is also most agreeable as a bicycle ride. One could cycle mile after mile without obstruction but for the interminable sand dunes which build up despite the best efforts of the local Councils earth movers and lorries.
 I like to take an occasional detour when I'm cycling to the chemist. Usually I have to get cabs because of my back. But one of the curious ironies of my injury is the fact that it permits me, at times, to ride a bicycle. It was my consultant who suggested it to me as a possible source of exercise, explaining that by adopting a straight backed posture as I ride and adjusting the bike accordingly I could manage with minimal discomfort. He was right !
 One can ride for only a few minutes and discover a transition from rush hour traffic to almost total solitude. Few people brave the promenade after dark, the odd jogger perhaps, but as rule you're alone on these cold wintery evenings. After riding down to the sea front I sat on a bench watching the lights shimmering on the water. The sound of wind and tide seeping past my headphones were adding a subtle background to Mozart's 'Eine Kleine Nacht Musak' playing on the '8 tracks' app on my phone. Somewhere ahead of me in the darkness stands Anthony Gormley's 'Iron Man' art piece. Life size sentinels spread along the beach about a hundred metres apart stand defiant facing tide, wind, and whatever else nature throws at them.
 They do have something of an advantage over me regarding defying the elements. They're made of iron, whereas I'm very much flesh and blood and aware of why few people come down here on Winter evenings. It's bloody freezing ! time to go methinks.  

The Internet for me is therapy. it is an escape from the mundane, the drab, the mediocrity which comprises the supporting cast in the great drama which bears the title: 'My Life !'
 So, of course, when my use of it is rationed due to the vagaries of everyday life I tend to be somewhat touchy about what constitutes my incursions into virtual land. The last thing I want is some fuckwit causing me grief. Today I had a fuckwit causing me grief in spades ! My patience is at an al time low due to family circumstances; illness to be specific. So being lectured on Post Modernism of all things by some pedantic little wannabe know all. You know the type, he got a 2:1 in social studies at 'Grimsdale academy for Higher education and bingo on Thursdays' type thing. Next minute he's fucking Martin Heidegger.
  As you might expect as this came about with me making a simple post about my position on the Coalition's latest publication regarding recovery I wasn't expecting any problems. But, at the end I made a silly comment mentioning post modernism, only in order to set up a punch line about them 'deconstructing' the present system. Naturally I expected it to be taken as a not very amusing word play. Not Mr Pedantic though. He felt duty bound to share his wisdom on Post modernist theory, which has about as much relevance to the drugs field as today's Sunday league results in the central Lancashire League (assuming such a body exists). When I took exception to his pseudo intellectual claptrap with an obvious piss take of the subject. Shit for brains, who either has a skin thicker than a hippo's butt or is dimmer than Nick Clegg, took it at face value, i.e. he believed it was a deadly serious attempt to intellectually fence with him on the famous piece of Gallic nonsense which is every sophists wet dream: Post Modernism !
 I was truly gobsmacked ! Surely nobody could be that dim, or that wrapped up in their own over inflated, pompous sense of intellectual worth ? I under estimated this numb skull. He swallowed as being kosher, lock, stock and barrel ! When dealing with such an obvious "tard", yeah it's non PC and abusive but in his case 100% true, one can only slowly join the dots for them until somewhere in the confused mass of quotes and concepts, which they have memorized but of course totally failed to understand, hopefully a dim light goes on and they retire; No doubt utterly convinced that he was right and I'm wriggling out of having to debate with such a mental giant.
 I despair, I go on line to avoid the 'shit for brains brigade' instead I'm pestered by them like mosquitoes around a lily white Englishman on the beach first day of his holiday. What's the answer ? If only I knew. 

Entropy - (verb) Lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder. This among others is a definition of the word 'Entropy.'  For people such as myself, was are dillitante science buffs, it describes the end state of the Universe, a kind of 'heat death' where all the possible energy has been used up and what is left is so dissipated and utterly chaotic that all chance of further 'physical processes - the kind of things which lead to: you, me, gas giant planets or mars bars are no longer possible. A depressing state of affairs one would no doubt hazard, but as it isn't likely for an utterly exhausting length of time to even contemplate there isn't any need to worry just yet.
 I mention entropy as it is the title of this mini-blog. Actually part of the title: 'tidy that entropy' to unravel it being the full thing. It's a kind of weak joke. Sort of like "entropy - the obsessive compulsive's deadliest enemy." Not particularly funny but hey I'm winging it here !
 Dysteleological Physicalism, now there is a mouthful you have to admit. What the Monty Python team would have called, "Woody words !" but, 'woody' or otherwise what does it actually mean ? Well 'dystelological actually refers to a philosophical viewpoint that existence has no 'telos'. Now 'telos, which is Greek or specifically derives from ancient Greek  for end or purpose. In a constrained sense it was used by philosopher's such as Aristotle. Teleology, the study of purpose or design in natural occurrences is pure Aristotelian philosophy. As Christianity explains life, the Univers and everything in a telological sense, i.e. as having an end or purpose in order to achieve a specific goal -The New Jerusalem, the early Christian philosophers like Aquinas loved Aristotle's teleological accounts and incorporated them into a synthesis of his and Christian thought known as Scholasticism.
 The last bit, Physicalism holds that everything which exists is no more extensive than its physical properties; most definitely not a Christian viewpoint. And the reason I raise this ? Easy, it's Friday night and I'm bored. Besides, it's interesting in an obscure kind of way, don't you think ? Oh, well in that case I'll stop rambling on okay ?